Moe of All Moe
by Eviltwin05
Summary: Are wonderful Englishman decides to take up an offer to do some modeling to make some extra cash!  How will this go over? first ever real yaoi story I've written so go easy on me! USUK and some suggestive themes!
1. Chapter 1

My first ever attempt at writing a story for a yaoi couple! Please forgive me if it sucks! DX

I do not own Hetalia, but if I did, USUK would have been together already! : D

Enjoy!

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><p><strong>The Moe of All Moe<strong>

"Seriously dude! Those meetings are way too long!" The American boy complained to the much more petite man walking next to him.

A sigh sounded from said petite man. "Really, Alfred. Those meetings don't last more than two hours. That's hardly something to get worked up over." He reprimanded. The American still whined in disagreement though.

"But that's because your old and have nothing to do with your life! I still have my whole life ahead of me!"

"OLD? I'm only 5 years older then you, you overgrown whelp!" The petite man protested, large eyebrows narrowing with anger.

"Practically ancient, Artie." The American teased, brushing off the seething glare of his British friend.

The Britain huffed and folded his arms over his chest, pouting slightly. The American turned away slightly to hide the slight blush that was forming on his cheeks from the Brit's expression.

'_Too damn cute for his own good!' _Alfred groaned inwardly.

Whether Arthur would admit to it or not, everyone knew he probably the cutest face in the entire department (smiling, scowling, pouting, etc.).

"Why Angleterre~! l'Amérique~! What luck it was to run into you two!"

The two turned to see their flamboyant Frenchman of a colleague, Francis, coming their way.

"Well isn't it quite unfortunate for us than, isn't it?" Arthur replied snootily. The Frenchman didn't seemed to be fazed by the Englishman's insult, much to the his disappointment.

"I was just passing by some of the departments downstairs and overheard the plans for the company party! It's supposedly going to be quite the bash!" Francis gleefully gossiped.

Arthur rolled his eyes.

"Why should we care? Those parties always end with everyone drunk and passed out in some place or another of this building." he stated hotly.

"Coming from the master of doing just that." Alfred added jokingly.

"Belt up!" Arthur snapped, only getting a bout of laughter as his reply.

Francis didn't seemed at all surprised to see the two squabble and only waited for enough silence to continue.

"I also hear a bunch of big shots are coming too. Thinking of strike some business deals with the bosses upstairs." Francis continued, obviously trying to catch the Brit's interest in the party in someway.

"We're a insurance company that specializes in covering businesses and families. What's big to us?" Arthur bluntly inquired. Francis's eyes seemed to take on a rather creepy looking gleam and the Brit did well to step back.

"Only one of the best modeling companies in this city! I hear the company owner of Garçons Mignons is going to be there! _Ah ~ Capturer la forme du corps humain est un art_!" Francis went into a string of French Arthur didn't bother to learn after his long acquaintanceship with the Frenchman.

"Well that's all jolly good for you, but as for me, I plan to do something constructive." Arthur replied, putting the files he was holding into his suitcase.

"Still having trouble paying your rent this month, I heard?" Francis quipped, grin forming as the Britain sent him a sharp look.

"I could help you out with that~ for a price of course~!" Francis leered a bit. Arthur didn't hesitate to slap the Frenchman's wandering hand away from any part of his body.

"It's not that I'm having trouble, I would just prefer not to live the rest of my life living from paycheck to paycheck." Arthur responded heatedly, obviously attending to end the conversation as quickly as possible.

Alfred through his arm over Arthur's shoulder and laughed.

"Guess that constant burning down of your kitchen is finally taking its toll on ya, huh?" Alfred joked, pulling the now flushed Britain even closer to his side.

"Y-you git! Release me now!" Arthur squeaked embarrassedly. Alfred only laughed a little more until the Brit's face was in his neck, breathing his hot breath onto it. Quickly realizing just how stimulating the breath was becoming, Alfred pulled back as casually as he could without it seeming too sudden.

Francis, who had been watching the scene, could have wept at the lack of amor in his presence. Just as he was about to call the two out on the UST, a sudden idea struck his mind. Careful to escape the two men's presence without being noticed, Francis made his way back to his office.

He inwardly smirked as he picked up a magazine from the stack on top of his desk.

'_I think I have a way to make us all happy~ and no way for me to get blamed if it goes wrong!'_

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><p>Arthur sighed as he left the umpteenth building that day with no luck of finding a practicable job that wouldn't interfere with his daily schedules.<p>

"At this rate, there won't be any places left but those stupid fast food places Alfred enjoys far too much…" Arthur muttered to himself as he crossed off another job on the newspaper in his hand.

Just when he was ready to hail for a taxi and call it a night, he was suddenly tapped on the shoulder. Arthur turned to see a man with slicked back blonde hair and wearing a rather lavish looking suit. He examined Arthur's face for a moment before grinned and took Arthur's hand and shook it eagerly.

"Hello! My name is Emmanuel Bernard. I'm an agent over at Garçons Mignons and you seem like someone who would look great in front of the camera!" The man greeted cheerfully, taking a business card out of his pocket and all but shoving it in Arthur's face.

Arthur looked from the business card to the man and slightly flushed.

"I'm very sorry, but I doubt I could be of much of a model." Arthur insisted, bowing his head slightly to further the point.

The man's grin didn't waver. "We don't ask for you to have experience." Emmanuel pressed, obviously not quite ready to give up yet.

"I appreciate the offer, but I really have no time to fit in something else into my already tight schedule." Arthur pressed back, hoping the guy would take the hint.

He didn't. If anything, he doubled his efforts.

"We can work things around your schedule. Our top priority is to make sure our clients are very much comfortable with our services." Emmanuel continued, grinning at the surprised look that took over Arthur's features.

"The job also pays pretty well." Emmanuel added, last ditch effort to grab the Brit's interest.

It did, Arthur's eyes lit up with a hint of curiosity.

"Really… And you're saying I can schedule this as I suit fitting?" Arthur questioned turning the business card around in his palm.

Emmanuel grinned and nodded his head vigorously.

"Of course! Just call our number and schedule your appointment to any date you please. With in reason of course. We do have the next magazine coming out pretty soon." Emmanuel replied, excitement already evident in his tone.

Arthur nodded his consent and quickly gave Emmanuel a handshake before a taxi finally pulled over next to him.

"See you!" Emmanuel called out as Arthur's taxi drove off.

Inside the taxi, Arthur still was flipping the business card over in his palm.

"Garçons Mignons, huh? Why does that ring a bell?" Arthur muttered to himself.

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><p>That's the first chapter! Review! And please don't flame (I don't think my poor yaoi fan girl heart could take it!) DX<p> 


	2. Chapter 2

Hello! Here's the second installment and please forgive me if that visualization isn't the best!

I do not own Hetalia (would have been a freaking dream if I did thou!)

Enjoy!

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><p>(Alfred's point of view to start!)<p>

**A few days later…**

"Artie! You home?"

Outside Arthur's house stood Alfred, waiting for some kind of response to return. And not but a few seconds after no response, Alfred didn't hesitate to reach under the welcome mat to grab the spare key and open the door.

"Artie? Come on dude, where are you?" Alfred whined. Noting the stench of burnt scones emitting from the kitchen, he made his way through the house.

"Arthur?" Alfred questioned uncertainly as he entered the kitchen. He spotted the plate stacked high with Arthur's scones and a note next to it. Alfred picked up the note.

**Alfred~**

**I know you probably used the key under the welcome mat to let yourself in. I've got something scheduled today, so I won't be home until late in the evening. Help yourself to my scones if you want to stay, but if otherwise; don't go snooping in my things. **

**Signed **

**Arthur**

Alfred huffed at the first sentence. He wasn't THAT predictable, was he?

Okay, he'll admit that after practically growing up with Arthur, he would create the habit of always making time to come visit the Englishman at least four times a week. But that was because he knew Arthur would probably get lonely without the hero around! It certainly wasn't the fact that he enjoyed being around the Brit! And most certainly not because he might have a "Tiny" crush on him either! Nope! Not one bit!

…

…

…Okay everything in that entire thought was completely false. He knew that he got kind of lonely when the Brit wasn't around to nag or argue with him, he also knew that his crush wasn't exactly tiny either, but that didn't mean he was some love sick fool! (Stop laughing, because I know you're are!)

Alfred huffed again before his attention turned to the plate of scones. He picked up one of the scone before putting it back and dumping the entire batch into the garbage.

'_Just because I love the guy doesn't mean I got to love his cooking…'_

Alfred made his way to the T.V. room to watch T.V. for god-knows-how-long until Arthur returned.

"Wonder what he had to do?" Alfred muttered as he maxed up the volume on the television.

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><p>Arthur stood outside the sleek but humble white stone building holding the business card from Emmanuel in his hand.<p>

"This seems to be the place…" Arthur muttered to himself, eyes straying over the neatly painted sign with the company name finely sketched on hanging over the entrance. With a slightly nervous smooth of his hair, Arthur shuffled through the sliding glass doors and into the building.

His shoes clicked rather loudly on the marble floor as he made his way towards the receptionist behind the sleek looking desk. Having heard the loud clicking, the receptionist stopped her typing on the computer. Arthur reached the desk and gave the receptionist his name. A few taps on her computer, exchange of contact information, and a friendly chat later Arthur was being lead down a long hallway, many statutes and paintings decorated the pure white walls. Stopping at last at a door, Arthur was lead inside the room.

The room was completely white and frankly quite, plain. Aside from the camera equipment there was really only a small sofa, table, and a screen set in the back (which Arthur could guess was for changing) occupying the room's space. Despite the lack of anything in the room, a fair amount of people were bustling around preparing the set for the photo shoot.

"Arthur! Thank you so much for coming!"

Arthur turned to see Emmanuel coming his way, grin fixed onto his features.

Arthur reached out and shook his outstretched hand.

"Nice to see you again, Mr. Bernard." Arthur greeted nicely. Emmanuel pouted slightly and shook his head.

"Don't be too formal. Call me Emmanuel." he whined. A flash of Alfred went through Arthur's head at the gesture before he quickly shot the thought out of his head, but not before a small blush took residence on his cheeks. Luckily, Emmanuel didn't seem to notice and lead Arthur towards the screen.

"We have the outfits already hanging in there, so just put them on, come out here for a little bit of make-up, then will be ready to go!" Emmanuel instructed giving Arthur a slight push towards the screen. Arthur nodded quickly before pulling the screen aside and closed to change.

Arthur saw the three garment bags hanging from a hook on the wall. Pulling the first one off, he unzipped it. He pulled out what seemed to be a uniform very similar to the one's he used to wear when he was in elementary school back in England, the only differences were that the uniform was larger then his old ones and the colors seemed a little more vibrant then the calm blue and brown he was accustomed to.

Undressing hesitantly (mildly nervous about all those shuffling around outside the screen) he pulled the outfit on and straightened it to perfection. The mirror nailed to the wall reflected Arthur's appearance back at him.

The brown plaid shorts ended just above his knees, the white button-up was hardly noticeable from under the vibrant purple vest and even more vibrant red jacket and the large bowtie completed the picture of something straight out of one of Francis's little fantasies (shudder). Pulling on the knee length black wool socks, Arthur opened the screen to see a few people waiting for him. The first reactions got Arthur's face turning cherry red.

"Awwwww! He looks so cute!"

"He looks so much younger than when he came in!"

"With his slender figure, no one would have thought he wasn't a kid!"

"And the blush on his face just completes the picture!"

Arthur's face could only get hotter from there (from embarrassment or anger, we're not sure). Luckily someone lead him away from the cooing crowd to apply the makeup.

The girl applying the makeup was a nice girl. Her long brown hair was tied back with a ponytail, but a pink flower clip was adoring the side of it nicely. She chatted with him as she tried to maintain his ruffled hair.

"Any girlfriend?" she asked cheekily, after managing to subdue his hair somewhat. Arthur's thoughts wandered off towards images of Alfred.

His golden lock.

Those gorgeous blue eyes.

A smile that would put most of Hollywood to shame…

He shook his head a little to make the images disappear but no such luck. The girl giggled a little at his expense and he only managed to huff before sitting back in the chair (they must have brought it in when he was changing) to sulk.

"No… but I do have someone I kind of like…" Arthur muttered softly, images of Alfred's carefree smiles and contagious laughter ran through his head.

Who was he kidding? Apart from finally coming to terms with his sexuality (only to himself of course, he wasn't giving the Frog another reason to tease him.) Athur had come to like~ no love ~ the American idiot he grew up with since he moved to the states from England back in middle school.

Of course he shouldn't give his hopes up, he always considered Alfred to be quite straight, being asked out by almost every girl in their firm and flirting right back was always a way to give him a good wake up call about those little hopes that he maybe (just maybe) liked him back.

Anyway~ despite being his friend for years, it didn't mean the boy necessarily was nice to him all the time. Naturally friends fought occasionally, but with them it was rather frightening just how many squabbles they could get into in just a day! After making cracks on his speech, clothes, morals, and eyebrows that would fall under the category of cruel, sometimes Arthur would really begin to wonder how he managed not strangle the boy after all these years, let alone stay his friend. But of course, after anything that would be remotely insulting to him, Alfred somehow was able to pull gestures so sweet that Arthur wouldn't be able to stay mad at him even if he wanted to. Leaving him to fall hopelessly in love with the oblivious fool.

The girl (whose name turned out to be Elizabeta) let another giggle come out. "Well whether it's like or love~ fight on!" She replied, a little grin etching onto her face. Arthur stared for a second before giving her a little smile along with a nod in return.

It didn't take too much time to put the makeup on and after the final touches were done, he was given a pair of knee high boots to put on before he was finally ready. Emmanuel waited with the rest of the crew and grinned when he saw how Arthur looked.

"Great! Let's get this show on the road!" Emmanuel called, crew instantly springing into action. Arthur mildly wondered as to why Emmanuel was giving orders (being only an agent, right?) but decided against questioning the way the place worked. The small table and sofa from the back were quickly carried over and was set up neatly in front of the cameras. When Emmanuel was satisfied with the set up, they instructed Arthur to go lay out on the couch, which he followed nervously.

With everything finally in order, this was the beginning of this slightly, frightful experience. Arthur laid himself out and rested his head against the surprisingly soft cushions. After a few more instructions, Arthur's arms were strategically placed over his head and gripping the arm rest while legs were hanging lazily over the other armrest. A few clicks went by and soon the positions continued to change little by little.

After a number of shots, Arthur was instructed to sit on the ground next to the couch and lay his arms on it. His head fell laid down as well and with just a few more clicks the cameras clicking had stopped.

Arthur didn't hesitate to stand back up and smooth out the outfit where it bunched up. As a great amount of the crew went to hover over the laptop keeping the newly snapped photos, Arthur was ushered back to change into the next outfit.

Upon hearing more shuffling outside the screen, Arthur grabbed the next garment bag. He opened it to find a rather large blue sweater inside. Checking the bag a few times to make sure if he had missed something in it, he came up with nothing else. Fidgeting with the soft material for a moment, Arthur undressed to pull on the sweater.

The sweater was so big that it refused to stay on both shoulders, not to mention the sleeves were too long for him to keep his hands visible. Luckily, it reached far enough so no one could see the union jack boxers he wore under them. When Arthur saw himself as somewhat presentable, he exited the changing room once again.

The "awws" only got worse then the first time and Arthur was mildly wondering how much this paycheck was…

The sofa and table were no longer on the set and instead a bunch of pillows were scattered around, enough in which someone could probably lay down and be comfortable.

Being ushered onto the pillows made Arthur realize just how tired he was already feeling. Not particularly caring about the cameras, Arthur let a big yawn pass through his lips as he stretched his arms over his head. His back arched back deeply and the moment pretty much screamed perfect picture moment. Professionalism be damned `cause damn it he was tired!

Arthur didn't really care for the pictures in this set, but kept his thoughts to himself as he was continuously flipped over into new poses. Not too long after that did they finish that set too and Arthur was back in the dressing room with the last garment bag.

'_Just one more set and then you can go home…' _Arthur thought, body already itching to go home and take a much needed soak in the tub.

Unzipping the last bag, Arthur was met with something very similar to a toga. It was completely white apart from the gold colored waist belt. There was also a pair of white boxers with them. Arthur's face went a bit red at the lack of skin that will be covered. Despite wanted to protest loudly to the outfit, Arthur had ends to meet and if this check wasn't going to help, he had no idea what would…

Quickly pulling off his underwear to be quickly replaced with the other pair, Arthur pulled the toga over his head. Pulling it down, he noticed how it only had one arm hole, leaving a great amount of his chest exposed. Something from inside the garment bag caught Arthur's eyes and he reached inside to find a small fake wand laying on the bottom of the bag. Strapping on the sandals that were also from inside the bag, Arthur exited the make-shift dressing room.

To say he wasn't almost glomped was a flat out lie, because if he hadn't run fast enough, he would have had a bunch of girls cooing and awing at his appearance. The camera man clarified that it was an angel costume and that the wings and halo would be photo shopped in later.

Just from looking at the bed set up in front of the cameras, Arthur knew this last set wasn't going to be the most pleasant…

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><p>Thanks for reading and review! :D<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

Hey again! :D

I do not own Hetalia (nor any of the characters), but it would rock if I did!

Enjoy!

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><p>Alfred was nearly asleep when he suddenly heard the front door open and close (rather roughly he mentally added). Quickly turning off the television, Alfred jumped up to go welcome his friends home.<p>

"Artie! You're ba~" The greeting was cut off with an extremely tired looking Brit. Alfred saw how Arthur was having a slight problem with staying awake.

"If you don't want my foot up that arse of your's, I suggest you bugger off so that I may sleep."

Arthur's reply didn't hold any malice or anger, just plain tiredness. Alfred wanted to argue back about it (he stayed over the whole day and when he finally gets home, he tells him to get out? That's just plain rude!) but with the Brit looking so vulnerable and cute (and no doubt in any condition to fight right now) at that very moment, Alfred's words died on his lips.

He sighed before nodding. Arthur at this point was already heading upstairs to change for bed, pointedly ignoring anything Alfred may have said, renewing Alfred's irritation. Alfred followed him up to make sure he didn't fall asleep before reaching his bed (he's seen it done many times before, it's really not an uncommon sight with Arthur). When they reached Arthur's bedroom door, Alfred parted from there to the guest room (after all, he stayed all day. He might as well as stay the night!).

Undressing down to his boxers, Alfred threw himself down on the mattress with a grunt of annoyance.

"This day could have gone better…" He muttered to himself solemnly. He didn't want to push Arthur around just so he'll do what he wanted him to do, but sometimes he wished that things would go his way sometimes!

Alfred's mind wandered again to just how tired Arthur looked. What on Earth could leave him THAT tired? Before he could really elaborate, his thoughts became a bit fuzzy with fatigue. Tiredness from earlier he didn't realize he had finally started to kick in and Alfred found himself surrendering to it.

"I'll ask him tomorrow…" Alfred mumbled before the darkness finally cosumed him.

Arthur opened his eye groggily. The light filtering through his window hit his eyes harshly. Groaning slightly, Arthur forced himself out of the comforts of his sheets and onto the chilled hardwood floor. After stretching the kinks out of his back, Arthur stumbled slightly as he made his way out of his room to go make his morning tea.

Yesterday left him tuckered out and all the tiredness from the ordeal sort of set in as soon as he left the agency.

Arthur came down the stairs and was met with a sight that made him stop dead in his tracks.

Alfred was standing in his kitchen whistling a cheery tune with pan in his hand, bacon and eggs sizzling away and a tea pot whistling away on the stove (smelling just like his favorite tea). The boy's attention was too wrapped up in the food he was preparing noted by the lack of response to the Brit's arrival.

Know Alfred's personality, something like this would have been easier to take in if it wasn't for one small detail…

He was wearing nothing but his boxers.

The American flag print boxers should have made him seem a little less attractive (being a proud patriotic Britain like himself) but if anything they only added to the blonde's appeal. Arthur's eyes strayed a little to gaze at the blonde's chest.

He will admit that everyone that knew Alfred would joke about his weight, but he would take back every comment had he really got a look at the boy's physice. He wasn't overly muscular, but lean in only a way he could see the blonde pulling off. Suddenly realizing just how long he must have been looking (definitely not ogling!) he quickly ducked his head down, but not without emiting a small squeak that alerted the blonde of his presence.

The blonde turned his head around. Setting down the pan with the cooked bacon, he sent the Brit his signature Hollywood smile, only causing the boy to flush and sputter indigentily.

"B-bloody hell! What the hell are you doing in my house, you overgrown welp!"

Alfred pouted slightly as he turned off the stove, pulling the steaming kettle off it and waving it slightly at the still stuttering Brit.

"Is that any way to treat the guy whose making you breakfast?" The tone was teasing and it only made Arthur's face grow hotter.

"I-I never asked you to do a-anything for me in the first p-place! And w-why in the queen's name a-are you here in t-the f-first place?" The Brit stuttered, now suddenly very subconscious about his mussy hair and wrinkled pajamas. Alfred's pout gained a irritated edge to it.

"I came over yesterday to hang out and then you weren't even here! I'm just collecting the hours you owe me for making me wait all afternoon for you to come home!" Alfred replied, transferring the bacon and eggs onto two plates and setting them on the table.

Arthur's face wasn't really improving, the flush starting to spread to the rest of his body. Huffing slightly, Arthur grabbed the pot still dangling from the American's hand.

"You want me to pay you back? Get a better wardrobe than that, then maybe we'll talk." The Brit answered hotly.

Almost as if he just realized how undressed he was, Alfred grinned sheepishly.

"My bad. Be back in a moment!" Just like that, Alfred jogged out to redress himself.

Arthur poured himself a cup of the tea and took a whiff of it. Taking a small sip, he set down the cup and buried his face into his hands.

"I shouldn't feel so happy over a cup of tea…" He mumbled, despite the distaste in the statement there was a wide smile very evident on his face.

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><p>After Alfred returned, the two surprisingly had a pretty quiet breakfast. Arthur cleaned the dishes as Alfred went to go find his shoes (he swore he threw them near the front door).<p>

"I better get back home and change. Wouldn't want to go around wearing the same clothes two days in a row!" Alfred joked, finally finding his shoes tossed behind the couch.

"Coming from the guy who wore the same suit for one straight week." Arthur remarked dryly.

"That was a bet and that suit wasn't THAT dirty!" Alfred defended huffily.

Arthur smirked. "A pig could have wore that suit and would have said the same thing."

Alfred growled slightly, but then his mind quickly switched gears back to memories of last night.

"Hey Artie~" Alfred started.

"It's Arthur!" Arthur cut in sharply.

Alfred frowned but the look of slight concern was clearly evident in his blue eyes. "Whatever. What did you have to do yesterday? You looked like you ran a marathon across the entire city."

Arthur's scowled disappeared and was replaced with a look of surprise. Of course that only lasted a moment and his face quickly became guarded.

"T-that's none of you're business! I-I was just simply running a few errands around town!" Arthur cursed the slight stuttered in his voice. Alfred gave him a disbelieving look.

"Liar. What did you do? Have a secret consultation for getting those eyebrows under control?"

…

…

…

Alfred found himself promptly kicked out by the enraged Brit's house (with his shin hurting like hell…).

Arthur stood inside the house huffing to himself.

"I doubt he believe that I was having my photos taken…" He murmured quietly. A slightly sad edge creeping into his voice.

On a lighter note; outside Alfred was limping down the walkway, murmuring things along the line of "Jerk" and "Can't take a joke".

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><p>The next week passed rather quickly for Alfred after the argument at Arthur's. Whistling to himself, Alfred was strolling around the cubical filled office with his newly acquired coffee when he heard some giggling and whispering from a few cubicles down.<p>

"It looks a lot like him, but is it really?"

"He has to be! No complete stranger can look like someone exactly!"

"Well there's that guy a few floors down who looks strangely like Alfred… What was his name again?"

"That would be my brother." Alfred cut in, deciding that if his name was brought up, he might as well take a look. (Even if he was only used as an example rather then the main subject)

The gossiping employees turned around a flushed slightly at his sudden appearance.

"Mr. Jones! S-sorry for the noise!" One stammered out nervously. Alfred waved her off.

"It's fine. Just kind of curious as to what all the noise was about." he answered, taking notice in the magazine sitting on one of the girl's desk.

"W-well when we went on break earlier, I went out to grab something to eat when I noticed this magazine rack on the corner packed with people. The racks aren't usually popular around that corner so I thought I'd go and check out what all the excitement was about. I managed to get through the crowed to find a whole rack full of these magazines in the middle of all the chaos." The girl explained picking up the magazine from the desk for reference. "It didn't cost too much, so I just bought it to see what all the hype was about. Turns out it's that famous modeling company, Garçons Mignons's monthly magazine and they seemed to have taken a new model under their wing." The girl continued, handing the magazine to Alfred.

The cover had a glossy photo of a rather doll faced boy wearing a sailor suit and given the camera a sort of poutish face.

'_Garçons Mignons… If that French Mattie stuffed down my throat is correct; that translates out to "Cute Boys".' _Alfred noted inwardly, kind of proud of remember some of that God-awful language (Arthur was really starting to wear off on him).

"Okay, so what the big deal about it? Plenty of famous business take on new employees daily! What's so important about this one?" Alfred asked, handing the magazine back to the girl who handed it to him. The trio of women looked at each other for a second before the girl with the magazine was flipping straight to the middle.

"It's not the issue of having a new model…" One of the girls started.

"It just becoming a centerfold and having such a familiar face is what the issue is." The other girl added.

"What do you mean familiar fa~"

The words (and breath) wooshed out of Alfred's throat as soon as that magazine was shoved back into his face.

The petite sandy blonde in the photo was very familiar; a face that looked adorable whether it scowled or smiled, dark green eyes shining with an innocence the boy sporting them was not aware of, and large bushy eyebrows that seemed to somehow compliment the boy's features perfectly.

Oh yes, all too familiar indeed.

The picture had the boy laid out on a couch, torso arching up a bit, (revealing a bit of the flat plains stomach from under the vibrant suit he was adored in) as his arms were stretched out over his head and gripping the couch's arm. His eyes were wide and as his brows were arched slightly, looking very curious (about what he refused to let his mind wander). His legs were resting over the other arm of the couch. His toes were pointed, hardly noticeable in the military style boots he wore. Those boots cut off just under the knees leaving the long socks under them to be seen. Despite the majority of his legs being covered up, creamy white thighs were very much visible (noting how the shorts didn't quite reach down far enough to cover all of the thigh…).

Alfred, not even given the girls some kind of explanation or response, pulled out twenty a from his pocket and gave it to the girl before taking the magazine from her hands and promptly walking out.

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><p>Alfred has found the magazine! What will happen? (I know! XD)<p>

Thanks for reading and please review!


	4. Chapter 4

Here's the last chapter!

I don't own Hetalia, the great genius Hidekaz Himaruya does!

Please enjoy!

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><p>Alfred sat at his desk, magazine laid out right in front of him and his face in his hands.<p>

There's no way that could have been Arthur! The guy he knew wouldn't make that face so intentionally! He wouldn't put do something like this without a valid reason (Or if he had finally gone off his rocker). So caught up in his thoughts, Alfred almost missed the knock on his cubical door.

Quickly shoving the magazine into his briefcase under the desk, he quickly stumbled to open the door.

God must have been a real comedian `cause the source of his confusion was waiting on the other side of that door.

Arthur Kirkland.

Though he forced the blush down off his face, Alfred could feel the back of his neck start to burn.

"H-hey Artie! What brings you here?" Alfred questioned nervously. Damn it he was feeling guilty about something he shouldn't!

One of those eyebrows arched slightly in curiosity. The picture suddenly flashed through Alfred's brain causing his cheeks to burn with embarrassment.

"Are you feeling well? Didn't overeat yourself again, did you?" He joked half-heartily. Alfred tried to laugh it off, but it sounded forced and fake to his ears.

"H-ha ha h-ha ha! W-what are you talking a-about old man? You're mind must be p-playing tricks on y-you again!" He teased back, thou notably more forced. Luckily for Alfred, Arthur paid more attention to the insult then the tone it was said in.

"Wanker! Just when I was about to do something nice for you too! But now you can just forget it!" The Brit growled back stomping his foot a bit like a spoiled child. Alfred would have smiled at the cute display if it wasn't starting to become rather 'stimulating'.

"Come on A-Arthur! Don't be like that!"

"I'll bloody well be like this if I wa~!" Arthur abruptly stopped and his expression was that of shock and more confusion.

"A-Arthur?" He whispered softly. Alfred's forced smile had quickly dropped from his face with realization of the slip up.

Lord must have been trying to apologize to him for earlier and decided at that moment for the whistle to blow, signaling the end of the work day. Alfred didn't hesitate to make a grab for his suitcase and scattered papers before shoving past Arthur rather roughly and towards the waiting elevator.

"I'll get back to you! I'll see you later!" Alfred yelled back. The Brit was frozen where the American had shoved him and Alfred didn't dare to look at what his expression was…

As Alfred rushed down the stair well, he didn't notice the Frenchman (who had witnessed the scene from his hiding spot behind a potted plant) smirking.

"Only a matter of time…" He whispered happily as he turned his attention back to the Brit (whose shock looked to be wearing off). The Brit's eyes suddenly ignited with rage and the Frenchman knew all would be well.

* * *

><p>Alfred had a death grip on the magazine as he once again found himself looking at the picture of (who he secretly hoped was) Arthur. He had already looked at the index and saw how "Angel" (As ArthurArthur look alike was named in the magazine) had quite a few pictures featured on him, but Alfred was very hesitate to look at any of them. (He was already having a hard time dealing with the first one, he'd surely die of heart failure if he looked at the others!) Shaking his hands out from the now rather painful fist he had gripped them into, he took a shuddery breath before slowly turning the page.

The blood in his body was now having a hard time deciding where it should flood (To his face, to his "other" region, or just take the exit out his nose…). Living up to the nickname, the blonde was featured on a reasonably sized bed all decked out in a white toga thing with large wings looking to be sprouting out of his back. He was facing the camera on his hands and knees, face flushed and eyes glazed over as if he was begging for something. His back was arched like a cat's and Alfred found his eyes traveling the expanse of the blonde's body from his mussed (but incredibly sexy) locks to his dainty looking toes.

Despite the pictures looking like something right out of one of his many (MANY) fantasies of the Brit, Alfred couldn't help but feel guilty at his ogling. He wasn't positive that this was really Arthur (I mean~ it has been seen that total strangers can somehow turn out to look the same!) and if it turned out it wasn't him, he feel like a total ass for checking someone else out when he was already shit deep in love the grumpy Englishman. Finding the will to close the magazine, Alfred stuffed it under his armpit and got up to make himself some much needed coffee.

To say Arthur was enraged would be a total understatement.

The Brit had all but stormed out of the office and towards the soon to be castrated American's house. (Luckily for him, the boy didn't live that far away)

Once he reached the quaint two bedroom house, he checked behind one of the plastic flamingos to find the little spare key Alfred kept for any type of emergency. Finding it, he shoved it roughly into the key hole and all but kicked the door in.

"ALFRED!" Arthur roared.

A distinct thump and crash came from the kitchen and Arthur quickly turn his path that way.

Arthur found Alfred laying out on the floor with a broken mug shattered not too far away from him. Arthur didn't pay any mind to the destroyed mug as he took steps towards the surprised American.

"You have a lot of nerve to run off when people are talking to you…" Arthur growled, his tone causing Alfred to stumble to his feet.

"H-Hey it's not anything to scre~"

"I'll very well scream about it if I want to!" Arthur cut in dangerously. Alfred closed his mouth after that and prepared himself for the lecture (and probably a few punches) to start.

"You should very well show some courtesy to your superiors instead of shoving them aside like some worthless trash~!" Alfred flinched slightly. He could already tell that Arthur wasn't looking very merciful today.

"I didn't mean for it to seem like tha~"

"Well you did!" Arthur cut in once again. As Arthur went off screaming again, Alfred found himself taking in how Arthur was looking.

His cheeks were flushed harshly and his eyes looked as if they were flashing at him like some kind of thunderstorm only green and much more dangerous than any storm he would come in contact with. His fist were clenched tightly at his side and his entire body was rigged with bottled up rage. It should have terrified any normal human being, but having been getting this kind of rage from Arthur for years, Alfred had finally been able to somewhat block it out (it still kind of scared him shitless sometimes).

"Where to do you get off with leaving people in the middle of a conversa~!" Arthur's rant stopped mid-sentence and it suddenly became very quite. Alfred rose an eyebrow.

"Hey? What happened to the spitting fire dragon?" Alfred asked, half-joking thou he was really starting to grow concerned when the color drained from Arthur's face. Arthur's eyes were staring off at something behind Alfred and he turned to see the color in his face drain too.

The magazine apparently somehow flipped back open to the photo of Arthur/Arthur look alike when I fell off my chair at Arthur's surprise entrance.

It was deathly quiet for a moment and I could quickly see the color returning to Arthur's face again, thou now it seemed to have left it extremely red. It didn't take a genius to figure that one out.

"W-Why do you h-have that m-m-magazine?" Arthur stuttered, his eyes now taking a keen interest in the nonexistent dirt under his fingernails. Alfred let out a nervous chuckle and rubbed the back of his neck.

"W-well some girls had been looking at it and told me how this model in it looked a whole lot like you." he replied, somehow managing to smirk.

Arthur trembled slightly and looked up with such a defenseless expression.

"Go ahead. Laugh. I know you want to." Arthur murmured head now ducking down in shame, thou Alfred had no idea why he did that.

"Why would I laugh?" Alfred questioned watching Arthur's head snap up to glare at him.

"It because I look bloody stupid! What the hell is everyone going to think when they see those pic~"

"They're gonna wonder why they didn't notice the sexiness in you." Alfred cut in, loving the way Arthur's jaw dropped at his interruption.

"W-what?" Arthur croaked, eyes bugging out and the American boy couldn't help but smirk when he saw the flush spreading to the Brit's neck.

"I'm pretty sure you heard me right. And I think that it's about time I said it too." Alfred purred softly, taking the chance to grab the Brit's wrist and pull him closer. The Brit's stuttering didn't approve and only got worse as he was pulled into the much broader chest.

"B-but~" Arthur's stuttered, still trying to comprehend what Alfred was telling him. Alfred shushed him as his smirk softed down into a small smile.

"But nothing. I just told the love of my life he's hot and I suspect no disagreements."

Arthur's eyes widened another inch and Alfred prayed that he didn't put his heart on the line for nothing. But soon Arthur was clenching Alfred's face in his palms desperately his eyes searching his for any form of joking.

"Is this really happening? I've had dreams like this, but not quite as real as this one…" Arthur whispered frantically, eyes very much becoming a little teary. Alfred smiled wider and quickly wiped the nearly tears away.

"I guess that depends, am I better looking in your dreams or is the real thing more smoking?" Alfred joked, Arthur choked out a sob and buried his face in Alfred's shirt.

"Bloody wanker can't even be serious when making a stupid confession…" Arthur blubbered out, despite the tears Alfred could tell he defeintly not complaining at all.

Just to play along Alfred tutted in mock hurt. "Hey! I don't see you complaining!"

Arthur lifted his head and even with puffy blood-shot eyes, he still looked amazingly cute.

Arthur tipped his head up and pecked Alfred's cheek. "Never, love."

Alfred couldn't resist anymore and leaned down to capture the Brit's more than eager lips. He hummed approvingly as Arthur's fingers nestled themselves into his hair and tugged him closer. Alfred's tongue soon flitted out and licked Arthur's lips, begging for entrance. Arthur smirked against his lips but let the American's tongue slip in. They fought over dominance for a bit until Arthur forfeited and let Alfred maneuvered him until he was pushed up against one of the kitchen walls. When they pulled away to breathe, the two were quickly back at it again. Alfred's hands groped over Arthur's body until they reached his butt. Arthur moaned slightly as Alfred rubbed him slightly before hoisting him up. Arthur instinctively wrapped his legs around the American's hips as he lugged him to the living room.

"What do you plan on doing, boy?" Arthur teased, lightly trailing kisses down Alfred's face and neck. Alfred chuckled as he pressed a kiss to the Brit's exposed.

"Let's just say those pictures gave me a few ideas." he replied, hands pinching Arthur's butt softly but enough to draw a reaction. Arthur groaned softly and happily let Alfred lay him out on the couch before straddling him. Alfred chuckled again when the picture from the magazine popped back into his head.

"Hmm? What's so funny, love?" Arthur questioned, cheeks puffing out as he pouted. Alfred ducked down and planted a sweet kiss on his pouting lips.

"Nothing, babe. Just admiring my new boyfriend."

Arthur smirked and pulled Alfred down by his T-shirt for a passionate kiss. "Who said I say yes?" he purred teasingly trailing his fingers under Alfred's shirt and over the taut muscles under it. Alfred didn't hesitate to grab the Brit roughly and proceed to kiss him breathless.

"All of your refusal from here on out are denied!" Alfred stated gleefully when he pulled away from the now panted Arthur. Despite being breathless, Arthur let out a light laugh.

"If that's what happens, I'll make sure to deny you more often."

Alfred smirked as he descended onto the Brit once again. "Hell yeah."

* * *

><p>Francis sat in his study with a glass of wine with a knowing smirk on his face.<p>

"All in a day's work." He sighed proudly, taking a sip of his glass.

How does he know you ask?

Well it's because he's Francis and Francis knows these things.

(It's not like Francis hid secret cameras in Alfred's (especially Arthur's) house just to catch something extremely compromising and use said videos as future blackmail. No, no, no, no; most definitely not!)

"*moan* Alfred… please m-more~!"

"Whatever you want babe."

No, that is most certainly not a small surveillance system behind him either (nor is it screening Alfred and Arthur's special moment in high definition!)

…

Francis's smirk only grew as the faint moans (soundly strangely like the petite British man) grew into screams.

Ah yes~ he truly had a gift for knowing this stuff.

* * *

><p>Thanks for reading! (Might try to write that lemon but I would need a few review asking for it!)<p>

Review please!


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